Can't Escape This
by Arrogance Diminishes Wisdom
Summary: Gabriella seemed to be running from everything. Love, hate, war, more love... She starts to wonder herself if she could ever get her life back in order. TxG. "Why is it so easy to talk to you?"
1. Plane Ride

You know, I guess I really should've seen it coming. I should've seen the heartbreak just bursting in the distance, as if it were screaming, "I'm coming! I'm coming!" I should've ran and fled when my past and fears came after me instead of trying to be brave and facing them. But yet, I tried to be the opposing Chicken Little – the courageous one. Silly, naïve me. If only I saw what was coming ahead, then for certain I would've been smarter and chose the right path. But, can I erase the past and all the mistakes I foolishly made without thinking about any consequences? No. So, where am I now? Even I don't know. That's a question I ask everyday… but I guess it all started out with this…

**-**

"Gabriella, stop it! Stop crying!"

"Nu-nu-no!"

My mom threw another punch in my way, one that was sure to bloody my nose. Yet, knowing all my mom's tricks, I ducked just in time.

"Mom, I know it's h-hard without dad, bu-but _please _don't take it out on me," I pleaded, stuttering.  
"But it's your fault, you monster of a child! You need to–"

I stood up, regaining what I thought was courage. And it was, in a way – courage out of stupidity. "It's your fault you can't keep a man! I've seen men come in and out of his house, may I mention none of them are dad! None of this is my fault! It's yours! You're a man eater, mom! And I'm sick and tired of it!" I pointed at my mom's inflated stomach. "Those are about five men's sperms in there!"

My mom slapped me across the face quickly. "You don't disrespect your mother! I'm not thrilled with this situation!"

"Yeah!? Well, I'm not so thrilled either! So have a nice life with that baby you're going to raise, 'cuz you've just lost a child!" I sprinted upstairs and started packing immediately. I didn't care if I had nowhere to go; I had made up my mind that I was leaving. _I'll buy a plane ticket to Albuquerque and get out of this life and horrible mess in Seattle. I'll have a wonderful life without that thing that I used to call a mom,_ I thought while I vigorously shoved my clothes into the moss-green luggage. _I'll find a man and get married and have a wonderful family and will be such a better mom than the "it" downstairs. Just you wait and see, world! This minor setback will _not_ stop Gabriella Montez!_ I pumped my fist into the air at the last statement. But somewhere, in the rusty folders in the back of my mind, I wondered if that was true.

After I was all packed, I rethought my last statement. "_I'll buy plane ticket to Albuquerque and get out of this life and horrible mess in Seattle. (**Okay, but what will you do then, huh Montez? How will you eat? Where will you live?**) I'll have a wonderful life without that thing that I used to call a mom. (**She's your pregnant mother. Cut her some slack!**) I'll find a man and get married and have a wonderful family and will be such a better mom than the "it" downstairs. (**Some people search their whole lives looking for a man and never get one...**) Just you wait and see, world! This minor setback will _not _stop Gabriella Montez! (**But easier things have stopped you before...**)_

Despite my arguments with myself, I found myself getting in my rundown Station Wagon, and heading to the airport. Was I crazy!?

-

"Thank you," I said as politely as I could to the attendant. I studied the ticket, making my way to Section C. When I finally made it, coincidentally a voice on the intercom said, "4:00 flight to Albuquerque, you're plane is ready to take off."

"Perfect," I smirked. I flashed my ticket to the guard at the entrance and started down the aisle. Inside, it felt like a million butterflies had set off in my stomach. "I can do this, I can do this," I kept repeating to myself. Once on the plane, I settled down in my seat and rested my eyes, dreary from what the day had presented to me.

When I awoke, I was staring into a pair of clear, beautiful blue eyes. I looked around frantically, forgetting what had happened. When it all came back to me, my heart felt like it fell out of my chest. I left my pregnant mother at home where she would need help to get to the hospital when it would be time. She could also faint or throw up or fall, with no one there to comfort her! If I were sitting next to an emergency door, I would've jumped out right then and there, screaming, "I'm coming mom!" But, alas, I wasn't. I was staring into blue eyes. They were staring back, and as it felt like I could swim in them. A nasally voice interrupted my thoughts, declaring, "We'll be arriving in Albuquerque shortly," accompanied by a sniff before they hung up.

The boy with the blue eyes didn't take his eyes off of my face. I was starting to get a bit creeped out, but in a this-could-be-either-wrong-or-right-but-I-don't-care-'cuz-I'm-okay-with-this way.

"I'm Gabriella Montez," I blurted out. I didn't really think if this boy could be a stalker or kidnapper – it just felt right to say at the moment.

"Troy Bolton," he said back, offering his hand. I reached for his hand, and when our hands met, a tingle of either joy or fear – I couldn't really tell – went down my spine.

I realized two things at that moment; 1. This boy had some kind of Harry Potter spell on me that didn't want to make me let go of his hand, and 2. This was either the start or end of my life.

"So, Troy, what are you doing here?" I said before asking the flight attendant who was coming down the hall for a soda.

"Visiting my aunt. Well, actually _living _with my aunt. She got full custody after my dad started getting... abusive," Troy explained.

"Hmm, I can say the same with my mom. Except I don't have an aunt to run to. I'm just here... on my own," I said, looking around the plane. For some reason, it was really easy to talk to this guy. Is that a good thing?

Troy smiled at me. "Well, you seem like a nice girl."

"Thanks..." I said, not sure where our conversation was going. I took a sip of my soda. It trickled down my throat, and I smiled. It was so refreshing.

"How would you like to live with my aunt and I?" he asked calmly, as if he was asking me what my favorite color was. That made me spit out my soda on the bald head in front of me. The man turned around.

"Hey, watch where you're spitting!" he yelled angrily before turning around. I heard a chuckle next to me.

"It's not funny," I said with a pout. Troy put his hands up defensively.

"Sorry, I'm a sucker for spit takes," he said with a crooked smile. My heart skipped a beat. I mumbled under my breath.

"So, would you care to answer my question?" he asked again.

"I-I guess... but I don't want to intrude or anything."

"A gorgeous girl like you intruding? Impossible," he said with another crooked smile.

I almost melted.


	2. The Vieira Mansion

I stepped into the huge mansion, wondering why I was stupid to agree to stay here. I knew nothing about this family, I just left my mom, I only have one bag of clothes and other necessities, and I had exactly… 1, 2… no money on me. I guess I just got lost in his eyes. I've only known him for about 3 hours, and I'm practically saying I'm in love.

Disgusting.

"Troysie wroysie, sweet as pie! Come on over here, don't be shy!" I heard a woman's voice boom from upstairs. She had one of those high-pitched, freaky evil-God-mother voices. She came down the stairs in neon pink sweats, and her hair was up in multi-colored curlers. She was applying makeup, and her cell phone was glued in her hand.

"Oh," she said as she jumped over the last step, eyeing me up and down. She sounded disappointed. "OH!" she exclaimed like she realized something. I jumped at her sudden epiphany. "Welcome to America. I am Jennifer Vieira. You must be the new maid from Mexico," she said slowly, making weird gestures with her hands.

"Bien, por lo menos sé que eres un jackass estúpido, rico, racista," I said with a bright smile. At least I knew that much in Spanish. (**A/N: If you don't speak Spanish, Gabriella said, "Well, at least I know you're a stupid, rich, racist jackass."**)

"I'm sorry honey, I don't speak español," she said slowly again, making the over-dramatic gestures again.

"Good, that makes my job a whole lot easier," I said with a little laugh, brushing past her. "And I'm not a maid. I'm Troy Bolton's friend. You know, brown hair, blue eyes, about," I put my hand a couple of inches above my head, "Yay high?"

"Aw, yes, my charming little nephew. Lucille Bolton is my sister. I've never been married – well, if you don't count my last seven husbands – so I kept my maiden name. But anyway, back to Troy. He has a new girl here every week," she said with a cheeky smile. She got closer to me and whispered softly, "Just don't go in his room with him unless you like to pick out baby names." She pinched my cheek before jogging upstairs.

This could be a problem.

* * *

"Gabby!" Troy called out. I could hear his voice echoing off of the hallways. I heard his footsteps getting closer to the guest room where I was currently unpacking.

"Uhm, in here, Troy!" I called out hesitantly. In a couple of seconds, I saw his muscular frame in the doorway.

"Hey, I hope you like it here," he said with a lazy smile. "My Aunt Jenny can be hard to deal with at times."

"Oh, I know. She called me a Mexican maid when I first saw her. She was also speaking like this," I replied, speaking slowly at the last sentence.

Troy's angelic face instantly fell. "Oh, oh Gabriella I'm so sorry!" he came rushing to my side and pulled me in a bone-crushing hug. "What did I say, hard to deal with."

"Uhm, Troy, more like hard to breathe!" I gasped, squirming in his grasp.

Oh joy, this should be _fun_.


End file.
